“Just don’t move.” Maggie watched until Henny and the cat were safely out of sight before she ventured back toward the stables.
Keeping in the shadows as much as possible, Maggie made a wide approach to the outbuildings. She guessed it was feeding time, as the clattering of buckets and occasional snippets of conversation masked any slight noise that she might have made as she got closer. After about ten minutes, she was rewarded with the sight of Mahaffy and his leashed doggy companions. The two dogs immediately started sniffing the air, whimpering and straining in Maggie’s direction, but Mahaffy jerked them back.
“Sit! I’m not letting you off to chase raccoons again.”
Maggie breathed a prayer of thanks to whoever was watching over her as she turned and silently sped back to the house. She was still contemplating the problem of getting inside it when she peeked into the kitchen again and saw that the cook was on the phone: “Hi, boss. I’m off. The pie’s in the oven. Needs another ten minutes or so, veggies in the warming drawer.” He must have got an affirmative answer, because he then said, “See you in the morning.”
Luckily, he didn’t lock the kitchen door after his departure. Maggie waited only a few minutes to be sure that he wouldn’t come back for something before she collected Henny from behind the bushes and led the way inside.
“We have to make this a quick search,” she told her. “Mahaffy will be on his way home for dinner in a very short time.” But she paused for a moment in the kitchen to take an appreciative sniff. “God! I’m hungry.”
“I look in back rooms and you look in front ones,” Henny ordered. Maggie couldn’t help but smile as she obediently walked along a passage that led to three bedrooms. Nancy wasn’t in any of them.
She had only just made it back to the kitchen and the back door when she heard two men talking—Mahaffy’s northern Irish drawl and one other.
“Damn! It’s Nat!” They were walking up the path from the stables and making for the back entrance. “Henny! Where are you?” she hissed.
“Getting pie out of oven,” Henny answered, straightening up. “It is getting burnt.”
“For God’s sake, leave it!” But Maggie had to wait agonizing moments while Henny placed the pie on top of the stove before joining her outside. They made it behind the bushes just seconds before Mahaffy and Nat walked into the light.
“Do you always leave your place wide open?” Nat asked.
“No. And you can be sure I’ll be having a few words with my cook about that,” Mahaffy responded. “Now what do you want?”
“Maggie Spencer. Has she been here?”
“This afternoon. Looking for your ex-wife, I believe.”
“About what time?” Nat insisted.
“Four-thirty or thereabouts. What’s this all about, Southby? Why would I know where your ex-spouse is?”
“She’s missing. And we’re covering all the bases.”
“Well, there’s no reason for her to be here,” Mahaffy snapped. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a business to attend to.” He slammed the door shut.
“Didn’t even offer me a beer,” Nat muttered as he turned to go back.
“Psst! Nat.”
“What the hell . . . !” An arm was waving at him from behind a bush. “What’s going on?” he demanded once he had joined the two of them.
“She’s not here,” Maggie whispered, “so we’ve got to follow him. Come on.” Stealthily she began to lead the way to the back of the garage.
“No.” Nat grabbed her arm. “My car’s out front. He’s bound to be watching to make sure I leave.”
“Okay. See you outside the gates.” And touching Henny on the arm for her to follow, she led the way behind the garage and then sprinted for the trees.
Nat was right. As he walked around the house, he saw that Mahaffy had turned on the front porch light and was standing in the front entrance.
“I thought you’d got lost,” he called out as Nat searched his pockets for his keys.
“You’ve got a big house to go around.” Slipping into the driver’s seat of the Chevy, he turned on the ignition and wound down the window. “Give me a call if Nancy should turn up.”
“I’ve already told you—there’s no reason for her to come here.”
Maggie thought the man would never go back into the house, and when they eventually walked through the trees and out into the lane, they found Nat’s car parked next to the Morris.
“Now what’s going on?” he demanded.
Quickly, she explained how Henny’s soda bread had given her the clue to Mahaffy’s identity, and then deduced that the farm he had referred to was his boarding and riding stables. “But she’s not here,” she finished up. “Henny and I have already searched the place.”
“And left the kitchen door wide open,” he remonstrated, “If his cook insists he closed the door before he left, Mahaffy’s sure to know that someone’s been in his house.”
“Not to mention the pie,” she answered.
“Pie! What’s pie got to do with anything?”
Maggie decided not to enlighten him. “Okay, we slipped up. But we’ve got to be ready to follow him when he comes out.”
“What makes you think he’s going to?”
“Stands to reason, if he’s got Nancy.”
“But Maggie, we don’t know for sure that he has. And we could wait here all night.” He put on his overhead light and peered at his watch. “It’s already nearly eight.”
Maggie leaned back on Nat’s car while she thought. “Here’s a suggestion,” she said at last. “You take Henny home, and I’ll wait here and get to a phone as soon as he’s on the move.”
“No, Maggie, it’s the other way around. Nancy was my wife and I’ll do the waiting. You take Henny home.”
“But . . .”
“Just do what I ask . . . please.”
Maggie could see that he was determined. “You promise to call me and let me know what’s happening?”
“I promise. Just get going.”
• • •
“THAT MAHAFFY MAN HAS lots of money.” Henny broke the silence. Since leaving Nat behind, they had both been so tied up in their thoughts that they had travelled for miles along the dark country roads without saying a word.
“What makes you think that?”
“He has big stables and horses—that takes lots of money. He is a rich man . . .”
“It’s probably all mortgaged to the hilt, Henny. I remember him saying that he’d started out with an old farm in Richmond . . .” She was silent for a moment. “Oh, my God, Henny! You’ve done it again.”
“Yes?” Henny answered, puzzled.
“He said he still owns that farmhouse in Richmond. That’s where they’ve stashed Nancy.” She drove without speaking for another minute or so. “I just wish I could remember where he said it was . . .”
“Wood something,” Henny said suddenly.
“How do you know that?’
“I type up your notes. No. 5 Road and another road that started with Wood.”
“Henny,” Maggie said glowing. “You are wonderful. I’ll get you home and then see if I can find the place.”
“No,” Henny answered firmly. “Mr. Nat would never forgive me if you get hurt. I am coming too.”
The overcast sky had partly cleared, and by the time Maggie’s car emerged from the Deas Island Tunnel, the moon was casting ghostly shadows across the highway. But Maggie was too worried to appreciate the beauties of nature. She had been so sure that Mahaffy was holding Nancy at Twin Maples and she had been completely wrong. Now she was only too aware that she might be on another wild goose chase.
The traffic was light, and within minutes they were off the highway and onto No. 5 Road, passing rain-soaked farms that looked equally depressing in the wan moonlight.
“There’s a turnoff coming up,” Maggie announced, peering through the windshield. “But I can’t see the street name in the dark.” Pulling up at the corner, she climb
ed out of the car and was back inside within a minute. “This must be it, Henny. It’s called Woodhead Road.”
The narrow dirt road was bordered on both sides by deep, water-filled ditches, breached from time to time by plank bridges that led to sad-looking cottages squatting in sodden fields. Maggie drove slowly, keeping her eyes on the road. “Now all we’ve got to do is find the right house.”
“That’s it!” Henny announced, peering through the windshield. “See?” The dark shape of an old farmhouse sat forlornly in a muddy field.
Maggie stopped the car. “Maybe. But there’s no light. I think I’ll drive a bit further along and see if any of the other houses fit the description.” But a few moments later, she was faced with a dead end. “I guess that must’ve been it,” she said. “And now I’ve got to turn this thing around in the dark and not land us in one of those ditches.”
“I get out,” Henny volunteered.
“No. Just sit tight. One thing about these small cars,” she added as she reversed, “is that they’re great for getting out of tight spots.” But it took her quite a bit of reversing and going forward before she got the car turned around. Henny heaved a great sigh of relief when they eventually pulled up outside the house again. Maggie got out of the car to have a better look. The house stood well back from the road and seemed to be clad in cedar shakes that had seen better days. “Doesn’t look as if it’s been occupied in years,” she said.
“We go and see,” Henny announced, clambering out of the car and knocking her tapestry bag into the road. Its contents went flying, and Maggie was sure she heard a muttered curse as her sleuthing partner gathered everything up, but as the words were Dutch, she couldn’t be sure.
Together they gingerly crossed the ditch on the pair of wooden planks that had replaced the original bridge. The gate shrieked in protest as Maggie pushed it open, but there didn’t seem to be a soul around to hear it. At this point the moon gave up playing hide-and-seek in the clouds and left them to find their way in total darkness.
“Wait,” Henny whispered. A moment later, her enormous bag yielded a flashlight, and although it cast only a very faint beam, she played it over the house. All the windows facing the road were boarded up.
“We’ll try the back,” Maggie said, taking the flashlight from Henny and leading the way onto a muddy path that led around the side of the building past a sagging lean-to.
Suddenly, Henny grabbed her arm. “Someone’s here,” she said. She pointed to the path ahead.
Maggie shone the flashlight ahead of her and saw that there were footprints in the mud. “You’re right.” She crouched to look at them more closely. “They go both ways,” she said. “Somebody came and went.” Feeling their way carefully toward the backyard, they looked for signs of occupation—a light, anything. Nothing! Then Henny pointed out a tiny glimmer from a little window right under the point of the gable—a flickering candle, maybe?
• • •
NAT GOT OUT OF the car, stretched his arms over his head, glanced at his watch and leaned back against the hood of the car. “I’ll give him another ten minutes,” he muttered. While waiting, he had seen a couple of Mahaffy’s workers arriving, probably for the night shift. But so far Liam Mahaffy himself was staying put. Nat’s mind wandered from worrying about Nancy to wondering if they would ever find the double murderer, and then to the feasibility of taking on the logging scam job for the Forest Ministry. He was so engrossed that he almost missed the throaty sound of the Jaguar’s engine as Mahaffy’s car came out of the gate and passed the end of the lane where Nat’s car was hidden.
“Damn and blast!” Running around to the driver’s side of the Chevy, he jumped in, switched on the ignition and carefully nosed the car into the lane. Got to stay well back. He’s only got to see my headlights to know someone’s following. He watched the tail lights of the Jag dimming in the far distance before he turned on his lights and eased onto the road. A quick glance at the dashboard clock told him it was quarter to nine.
He felt a little worried when the silver car turned onto the highway, as he knew he wouldn’t have a chance of keeping Mahaffy in sight if he opened up that powerful engine. “Where the hell’s he going?” Then it dawned on him. “He’s going through the Deas Island Tunnel. He’s heading for the city!”
• • •
MAGGIE STOOD WELL BACK in the wet grass and peered up at the attic window. “Definitely a light of some kind,” she muttered. “We’ve got to find a way in before Mahaffy turns up.” But she was talking to herself, because her willing helper had disappeared up the back stairs.
“Door is locked,” Henny commented when Maggie caught up with her. “We will break the window glass?” But that was easier said than done, as the sash windows on the ground floor were tightly closed and pieces of plywood had been nailed across each of them.
“We need some kind of tool. What about that lean-to?” Using the flashlight, Maggie saw that it was half-filled with weathered boards, and on the wall were hung a few garden implements including a rusty axe. Several tins of nails came tumbling down as Maggie felt along a plank shelf in the semi-darkness. “Drat.” The two of them froze in their tracks and waited for a few minutes, but the eerie silence continued. Finally, Henny took the axe and Maggie armed herself with a long-handled hoe. “Let’s tackle that window by the back door,” Maggie whispered.
They soon realized that the window was too high off the ground, and even Henny, who was at least six inches taller than Maggie, couldn’t get a good enough swing with the axe to smash through the plywood.
“Give me the flashlight and you wait here, Mrs. Maggie, while I go look for something to stand on.”
“We’ve got to hurry. Mahaffy’s likely to turn up any minute.” But she realized that she was talking to herself again as Henny had disappeared into the dark, and the only sound was lumber and implements tumbling to the ground. She was about to feel her way back to the lean-to when Henny reappeared empty-handed.
“You didn’t find anything?”
Taking Maggie by the arm, Henny propelled her further along the back wall and around the corner, where she pointed the flashlight at a flight of stairs leading to a glassed-in porch. When Henny swung her axe at one of the porch windows, the noise seemed to vibrate all around them. Maggie quickly put her hand over Henny’s to wait for repercussions, but the only thing they had disturbed was a dog further down the road. It took Maggie several minutes to remove enough glass with her gloved hand so that she could reach inside and unlatch the door.
“I haff the light,” Henny said and led the way inside. But even though Maggie walked close behind Henny’s bulk, she still got her fair share of cobwebs, and she became convinced that there were monster spiders clinging to her face and hair. Henny’s light was now all but useless, and with their arms outstretched to feel their way, they stumbled over pails, bumped into a wringer washer and various other bits of furniture, boxes and heaven knows what. Finally Maggie, patting her way along the wall, located a light switch, and the single bulb hanging from the ceiling not only revealed the accumulated junk they had ploughed through but also showed them a glass-paned door that led into the main part of the house. Once again Henny wielded her axe.
• • •
NAT MADE SURE THAT he was well back from the silver Jag before they entered the tunnel, so it was just sheer luck that he noticed Liam Mahaffy’s car veer off the freeway and onto the Steveston Highway exit. Nat followed the Jag in the distance until he saw it stop outside a corner convenience store. By the time Nat caught up, Mahaffy was outside the store in a telephone booth, talking animatedly on the phone.
Driving past the store, Nat eased into a spot further down the dark road to wait and watch in his rear-view mirror. Ten minutes went by before he saw Mahaffy hurrying back to his car. The Jag made a U-turn and headed back the way it had come. Nat waited a few minutes, made a U-turn with his lights off and followed the Jag. He was just in time to see the silver car turn back onto the highwa
y, heading north once more.
The chase was on again!
• • •
AS MAGGIE REACHED FOR the light in the kitchen, she hoped that the shuttered window would do its job—but the choice was either to turn on the light or risk having an accident as they stumbled around in the dark. A door at the far side of the kitchen led to a hall and a staircase leading upward.
“We’ve got to make this quick,” Maggie commanded as she bounded up the threadbare carpeted stairs. “If Nancy’s here, then Mahaffy’s not far behind.”
Henny, still carrying her axe, gasped as she tried to keep up with her boss. It took several precious moments to peek in each of the four rooms on the second floor and then tear up the last flight leading to the attic. Maggie banged on the door. “Nancy?”
“I’m in here,” Nancy yelled through the attic door. “But the door’s locked.”
“Of course it is,” Maggie muttered, relief mixed with the inevitable irritation she felt towards Nat’s ex-wife.
Henny marched purposefully toward the door with her axe. “Stand back,” she yelled.
“Where’s Nat?” was the first thing that Nancy demanded as the door crashed open.
Maggie looked at Nat’s ex-wife and realized that it was a good thing the woman couldn’t see herself in a mirror. Tears mixed with old mascara and dirt had streaked down her face, the usually beautifully coiffed blonde hair was tangled and the borrowed sweatsuit did little to enhance her figure. “He’s out looking for you,” she answered tersely. “Come on, let’s get out of here. Lead the way, Henny.”
The three of them raced down the stairs and back through the porch, with Maggie carefully extinguishing the lights one by one as they went. They flew across the plank bridge and Henny unceremoniously pushed Nancy into the back seat of the Morris before flinging herself in beside Maggie. Gunning the engine, Maggie drove down the dark road, turned onto No. 5 Road, and headed for the city.
• • •
EVENTUALY, MAHAFFY TURNED OFF the freeway again onto Westminster Highway, negotiated a complicated series of turns to get onto No. 5 Road, and then within minutes made a right onto a narrow gravel road. Nat sensed they must be nearing the end of their journey. He pulled to the side of No. 5 Road just short of the intersection. Call it luck or intuition that made him wait a few minutes before following on foot, but as he went to open his door to step out, another car passed him and turned the corner. This time Nat climbed cautiously from his car and walked to the corner, grateful that there were no streetlights on this part of the island. Both cars were now parked with their lights on halfway down the narrow road, and Mahaffy and the other driver were standing beside them, talking. Then suddenly, the car lights went off, a flashlight came on, and Nat watched it bobbing off into the darkness.
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